


Moon of Sin

by AphDrabbles



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: 2P Hetalia, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, F/M, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2020-03-12
Packaged: 2021-02-08 06:33:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21471595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AphDrabbles/pseuds/AphDrabbles
Summary: While on a routine hike in the gorgeous Canadian mountains, you erupt with pain as your foot becomes caught in an illegal bear trap hidden under the deep snow. With the sun beginning to set and blood painting the snow red, your only option is to stay awake.Stay awake and pray you make it through the night.
Kudos: 11





	1. Buried Beginnings

Sweat dripped down your brow, entire body on fire as pain crawled along your spine. You let out a groan, angling your head to look at your foot. That was currently caught in a bear trap, deeply hidden under the snow. 

“Agh!” You moaned aloud, metal teeth digging into your flesh. 

The mechanic to open the trap was busted, panic flooding your veins as clumps of snow fell around you, sky darkening as the sun set. 

You’d be out of sunlight soon; you’d die from blood loss if hypothermia didn’t get you first. Your head rolled back as another wave of pain shook your body, tear warm against your cheek. 

This wasn’t supposed to happen!

It was a routine hike, an opportunity to enjoy the Canadian landscape and beautiful wildlife. You froze, last visage of the sun disappearing as a lone howl echoed throughout the forest. 

You bent towards your foot, hands gripping each side of the trap as you pulled yet it wouldn’t budge. You hissed in pain as the teeth dug deeper, head feeling light as darkness set in. 

“Is this...how I die?”

The thought of being torn apart by animals or dying in the woods, alone, rushed tears to your eyes. You wiped them away with a sleeve, nose and fingertips already beginning to feel colder. 

With the sun gone a shiver racked your frame, curling into yourself as you lay in the snowbank. Each minute that passed you felt weaker, unsure of how much blood you have lost, the snow around your leg stained crimson. 

There it was again, that singular howl…It seemed so lonely…You let out a weak laugh. 

“I must be losing it,” You said aloud, breath leaving in white puffs.

Your head, the weight of a concrete block, fell back into the snow, revealing a view of the starry sky. Maybe with a view like this, dying wouldn’t be so bad. You felt the onset of hypothermia, fighting off the blanket of sleepiness. 

No, I can’t fall asleep! If I sleep, I’ll die.

You slowly moved your hands, rubbing against your chest to stimulate heat and circulation. Losing a foot or leg was one thing, but if your heart still pumped you might live to see morning. 

Yet as time wore on your hands moved slower, fingers and toes completely numb. 

There it is again. That lonesome howl. Your last thought before losing consciousness was that it sounded closer than before, eyes wearily closing as soft snow fell around you.


	2. Meet Cute

Your eyes opened blearily at the sound of sizzling, shortly followed by the smell of something delicious. The ceiling above and wall to your right was wooden, log cabin taking shape.

Yesterday’s events came rushing back; blood seeping into the snow, metal digging into your flesh, pain and cold. You warily reached out, peeling back the quilt to reveal your foot neatly bandaged, propped up on a plain white pillow.

_ What happened? Did...someone save me? _

That was the only logical explanation, yet the person in question remained hidden from sight. However they weren’t far, as the sounds of them tinkering with cutlery reached your ears. 

Looking around the room, you noticed it was barren besides a pile of blankets folded on a rocking chair, plaid tapestry nailed to the wall. To your right was a window, mellow sunlight filtering in through the curtain.

“Ah,” You muttered aloud at the sight of a walking stick, tucked in the back corner. You stretched out, fingers pulling it fully into your grasp. Upon closer inspection it was intricately carved as if by a master woodworker, a proud wolf sitting at the top. 

Before you had the chance to do anything, you heard footsteps approaching. In a hurry you replaced the stick to its spot, sitting up in the narrow bed just as they appeared in the broad doorway. 

A man. 

The first thing you noticed was his eyes, a dull violet. Neither harsh nor soft, though they seemed to carry an unknown weight. The next thing you noticed was a tray of food in his hands. He paused only for a brief moment before placing the tray at the foot of the bed.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, voice slightly deeper than you had imagined. 

“Oh um, I’m fine.”

With him standing he towered above you, feeling small and helpless. You cleared your throat, desperately wanting to fill the silence.

“So, how did”-

“You should eat. I’ll answer your questions after.”

_ Is he avoiding the situation, or looking out for me? _

“Thank you.” 

His eyes met yours, lingering for the briefest of moments before he turned, walking out of the room. 

That man…

From under his buttoned plaid shirt you could tell he was fit, muscular even, hem tucked into dark blue jeans. Broad-shouldered and full of sharp, unclean angles. He seemed kind enough, though you couldn’t exactly picture him as the one who patched you up either. 

A sensation from your stomach brought your attention to the tray; a plate of pancakes, eggs, and sausage sitting beside a glass of orange juice. You dragged it closer to you, aroma filling your nostrils. With a newfound haste you pushed a piece of the pancakes into your mouth, maple syrup wonderfully sweet. 

In mere minutes the plate was empty, satisfactorily setting the fork down. Considering how much blood you lost, it made sense how hungry you were. In fact, you were surprised that you weren’t feeling that bad, not woozy or weak at all. There was a dull ache in your foot, radiating up your leg, however it wasn't nearly as bad as the pain you felt last night.

The man returned, plastic white box in his hand. Wordlessly he kneeled beside the bed, removing the blanket. You jumped slightly as he touched your foot, embarrassment rising inside you. There was no way he didn’t notice. 

“I need to check how the wound is healing.”

You nodded in response, the air feeling more tense and still than from before. 

He brought out a pair of scissors, snipping away a tiny section of the cloth bandage before unraveling it. You watched his hands expertly move as if he had done this many, many times before. 

You wanted to sink back into the pillows, to disappear as he looked at your bare foot. Taking a peek yourself, your head immediately felt lighter at the sight. 

“I...I didn’t know it was that bad,” You admitted, shocked by the deep gouge. The surrounding skin was blue with hints of red, deepest around the wound. It appeared as if a vicious animal had bitten into your flesh.

He reached into his medical kit, bringing out various items and setting them onto the bed. 

“You’re lucky, you know.”

Of course you knew. You nearly died. But still, having that near-death reminder _ etched _into your skin was...scary. 

You jerked slightly as his hand gingerly grasped your foot, his bare skin warm and rough. 

“I’m going to add some ointment before rewrapping it. Let me know if it hurts.”

He was a man of few words, yet watching him intently focusing as he worked filled you with a sense of who he was. Kind. Compassionate. Your gaze flickered to take in more of him, noticing his dark strawberry-blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail, light stubble on his chin and jaw. 

“So, how did you find me?” You found yourself asking, him not bothering to take his eyes away from his task.

“I just happened to be around.”

“Around? In the middle of the forest, at night…”

His eyebrow twitched slightly.

“I was gathering some firewood and lost track of the time. Before I knew it, the sun had gone down.”

“You found me in the dark?”

“I had a torch with me.”

_ Ah, of course he would. Just because I was dumb enough to forget mine didn’t mean he was. _

“There.” He announced, a fresh bandage fastened snugly. 

He put the items back into the plastic case, clicking it shut.

“Will-will I be able to walk again?”

He stood up, looking you in the eyes. Time seemed to slow as you waited for his answer. 

“Yes.”

Relief flooded through you, lips slowly forming a smile.

“I see.”

He turned, prepared to leave.

“Wait! Where are you going? I...I want to properly thank you for saving me.”

“You need to rest in order to properly heal.”

“Will you at least tell me your name?”

“James.”

“_.” 

He tilted his head back slightly before retreating once more out of sight. With him gone, your body relaxed, unaware you were holding in so much tension. The pillow felt heavenly beneath your head, body only mildly on alert. You didn’t trust him fully (he’s a stranger after all) but as you drifted off to sleep you felt grateful to him, looking forward to learning more. 


	3. Dolly

You inhaled through clenched teeth, hissing at the bright pain. After having eaten you quickly fell asleep in a near content slumber, only to be awoken by unbearable agony. 

You leaned your head back with a groan, lightly thumping your head against the wall. 

What’s happening? Why does it hurt _ now, _and not before? 

It wasn’t a meager headache; your entire leg throbbed, slow and deep. Sitting up, you tried to see if massaging your calf would help any-only to immediately stop, fingers curling inward.

“Agh!” You moaned as feeling began to return to your tender extremities; even resting your fingers against the blanket made you wince.

“Medicine wear off?”

Scared nearly to death, you saw James appear in the doorway, stoic expression tinged with concern. He didn’t need an answer, soon returning with two enormous pills and a glass of water. 

You eyed the pills that looked as though they were meant for a horse, but didn’t stop to ask questions. Your hand shook, fingers burning as you took one at a time. You gasped as you gulped them down, relieved and exhausted.

“Those’ll help.”

“Wait!” You called out, gripping his flannel sleeve. 

You weren’t sure what had come over you, that instinctual desperation, but now more than ever you didn’t want to be alone.

“Please stay. Just until the medicine kicks in.”

He stood still as if contemplating your offer before turning and pulling up a chair. The room was semi-shrouded in darkness as day turned to night outside the window. The pillow felt heavenly beneath your head, but even there was a dull ache. 

“How long-how long till I get better?”

“Everyone heals different.”

“Guess, then.”

He sighed to himself before answering, “Your hands are healing fine; there’s some nerve damage but you won’t lose a digit...You broke some smaller bones in your foot. It’s difficult to say how long that could take.”

You barely noticed him trail off, reality hitting you across the face. You knew it was bad, you had _ seen it _ and yet hearing that you were _ broken _made it all the more real. All the more terrifying. 

You turned your head away, nose a few inches away from the wall.

“That so?” 

You tried to hide but your voice cracked, throat tight as tears filled your eyes once again. 

“Then,” you began, “what happens in the meantime?” 

You turned to face him, suddenly wanting to know what sort of expression he was wearing, how he would answer. Hair stuck to your wet cheeks as you peeked over at him.

Your breath caught in your throat the moment you met his eyes, the eyes that told more than his mouth ever would. 

Violet and sad, full of pity. 

Yes, you are broken. A tattered doll found in the woods, soaked by snow and blood. 

Would this man diligently patch you up, or would you become cast aside once more? 


	4. Dolly Part Two

You awoke to a strong urge, sitting upright in bed. It was early morning, room encased in blue light. Your foot propped up on the pillow still ached, but luckily the pills were still in your system, making the pain tolerable.

Carefully swinging your feet out over the side of the bed, you reached as far as you could, grabbing the ornate walking stick. Standing, you put all of your weight on your other foot, preparing to hobble your way to the bathroom.

The moment you put pressure on your injury you lost balance, toppling to the floor with a curse.

The stick rattled on the bare floor, loud in the previous silence. A light turned on, craning your head to see James walking towards you.

_Ughh, can this get any more embarrassing?_

“Are you okay?” He worriedly asked, gently grabbing your arm.

You put out a hand against the wall for support, bad foot hovering a few inches off the ground.

“I was, uh, I was just going to the bathroom.”

“It’s too soon to put any pressure on the wound.” He said seriously.

“You couldn’t have told me that five minutes ago?”

He ignored your rhetorical question, instead moving closer to you.

“What are you doing?”

“Offering you a hand. You need to go still, right?”

Your face flushed at his openness, only to deepen as he lifted you into his arms.

“Wha-a-t”-

“Shh, not so loud.”

You clamped your mouth shut, clinging on to his flannel shirt as he carried you a short distance, stopping in front of a closed door. He lowered his body to twist the handle, hitting the light switch with his shoulder before setting you down in front of the porcelain toilet. 

“I’ll be right outside if you need me.”

You nodded, him closing the door behind him with a click.

You exhaled, unaware you were holding your breath. The toilet seat was like ice against your skin, turning the faucet on for some privacy. Having finished, you went to wash your hands with the soap, nestled inside a clay dish that looked like a hollow log. Glancing up, you caught your reflection in the old mirror.

(Color) sunken eyes stared back, framed by dark circles. Hair limply lay against your scalp, flat from laying against the pillow. 

_This can’t be what I look like...right?_

Your hands flew to your mouth at an unexpected sob, stifling the noise. Helplessly watching your reflection, you saw yourself break down. The tears were warm, cold by time they reached the tip of your quivering chin.

_I am nothing but a broken doll after all…_

Knock, knock!

You nearly jumped out of your skin, hastily wiping at your puffy eyes.

“Everything okay?” He asked, voice muffled through the door. 

You opened it, James turning around with that worried look of his. You forced a small smile, nodding. Hoping he didn’t see your tear stained cheeks in the dim lighting. 

You couldn’t handle the embarrassment from being carried again, but didn’t have the strength to insist. The warmth from his chest only made you clench his shirt into your fists, biting your lip hard to keep it from quivering. 

As if you were glass, he set you down onto the bed, waiting until you were settled under the covers before moving.

“Get some sleep.”

His voice easily filled the space between you both, but you could only keep your head pointed at the wall. If you saw those violet eyes you knew you’d break down again. And you were tired of breaking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing major, sorry, just a small chapter. Later on they'll slowly get to know each other, living together while she heals. What could possibly go wrong? (or right?)


End file.
